


Stay With Me

by iantosgal



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 08:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iantosgal/pseuds/iantosgal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the beach, Charles isn’t the only one hit with a stray bullet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay With Me

Moira surprised them all when she came charging out of the burning remains of the jet, gun firing repeatedly at Erik. They watched in horror as Erik deflected the bullets and one of them hit Charles, drawing shocked gasps from them all.

They watched Erik try to kill Moira, they watched as he held Charles in his arms and the bombs exploded in the air behind him like metaphorical backdrop to his rage.

They watched as Erik let Moira go and as he spoke to Charles, so quietly that none of them heard a word.

No one saw that Hank gasped earlier than the others as the bullets flew through the air. No one noticed as he took half a step back.

No one noticed that one of the other wayward bullets had torn through his side.

Everyone’s attention was on the scene in front of them. On Charles lying broken on the floor, on friends turning from them and leaving them alone on a desolate beach with no way home.

Hank was the first one to run to Charles side. He fought through the pain, only wanting to help the man who had helped him so much, who had given him a place to be himself.

He had to admit the reason he was still standing was a mixture of adrenaline and his new form. It was stronger than he had ever been, but as Charles repeated he couldn’t feel his legs, like a mantra he was scared to stop, Hank was forced to admit to himself that he was not in good shape.

“Charles, don’t move ok. We’re gonna get you out of here.”

“How?” Alex demanded. “The jet’s pretty much destroyed; the subs no good and the teleporter went off without us.”

“I’ll think of something. I’ll see if I can salvage the jet,” Hank replied, struggling to his feet with a wince.

“The jet’s destroyed, Hank. There has to be another way,” Moira said.

“Well, while you think of one, I’m gonna try and get us home.”

Hank staggered inside the shell of the jet before he allowed himself to clutch his side and sag against the wall. His breath was becoming ragged and his side burned and throbbed. His hand was slick with blood and his legs felt weak.

The sound of someone approaching made Hank pull himself upright and struggle over to the main console of the jet.

“Hank, this is a waste of time. We need to find another way out of here.”

Alex walked through the debris and over to where Hank was braced over the console.

“What do you suggest Alex? How are we supposed to get home?” Hank straightened again with difficulty and turned to face Alex, trying not to let the pain show on his face. “Charles needs a doctor, fast. He’s paralysed. Paralysed, Alex! We need to get him to a hospital.”

Alex was staring at him, concern and shock in his eyes.

“Hank, you’re covered in blood.”

Hank looked away, hoping he could pass it off as Charles’ blood.

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit. Were you hit?” Alex took a step towards him.

“I’m fine,” Hank repeated, making to push past Alex but his knees gave out and he gasped as pain flooded through him and his vision swam.

Strong arms caught him as he fell and lowered him gently to the floor.

“Shit!” Alex yelled, “Hank, Hank, come on buddy, talk to me. Where are you hurt?”

“I’m...”

“If you say you’re ok then I swear to God,” Alex muttered, his hands roaming across Hank’s torso before he came across the wound on his left side. “Shiiit, Hank.”

“Don’t...don’t tell the other’s,” Hank begged, trying to push himself up but being prevented by Alex’s arm wrapped around him.

Alex shook his head and Hank blinked as a drop of water fell on his face. Alex was crying, but why? Hank didn’t understand.

“Hank, you’re bleeding pretty bad. You can’t be running around trying to save us, ok? You need to rest.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can. Let me take care of you, ok? I got this. I’ll get us home.”

“How?” Hank asked; his voice barely more than a whisper.

“I don’t fucking know, but I will. I’m gonna get you outside so they can keep an eye on you and then I’m gonna figure something out, ok?”

Alex wiped his face quickly and then pulled Hank to his feet, taking as much of his weight as he could. Together, they stumbled from the jet and over to the huddle around Charles.

“Help!” Alex called and they spun around, Sean leaping to his feet and rushing over, slinging Hank’s other arm of his shoulder. “One of the bullets got him. It’s bad, it’s really bad.”

“Hank?” Charles called, his head resting on Moira’s knee.

But Hank couldn’t answer. Everyone sounded so far away and he was cold, so very cold.

“Hank? Come on, Hank, stay with me,” Alex shouted, pulling Hank closer to him.

Hank wanted to reach up, wipe the tears that trickled silently down Alex’s face, maybe whisper that everything was going to be ok. But he couldn’t do anything and the last thing he heard before everything went black, was the sound of Alex screaming his name.

***

Hank woke with a start. He was in a bed and the room was filled with a soft light.

It was his room at the mansion, he realised, and he tried to sit up. A burning pain shot through his side and he gasped, gingerly lying back down.

How had they gotten home? He couldn’t remember much except blinding pain, desperation to help Charles and the look on Alex’s face.

Alex.

The thought of the other boy made Hank fight to sit up again and then to get to his feet. He made his way to the mirror and looked at the crisp, white dressing that covered his torso, fingers gently trailing across it.

He left his room and, using the wall for support when needed, he made his way to the main living area of the mansion.

As he had hoped, he heard voices as he approached and pushed open the door.

The first thing he saw was Charles, safe and alive, in a large wheelchair. He was already looking at the door and he smiled when Hank met his gaze.

The next person he saw was Alex, who jumped to his feet and hurried over.

“Whoa, whoa, what do you think you’re doing mister? Come on; let’s get you back to your sickbed.”

“I’m ok.”

“No, you’re not. So just do as you’re told and move it. Carefully.”

Hank would have laughed if he couldn’t see the emotions swimming behind the facade that Alex wore.

They made their way back to the room in silence, Alex keeping a steadying hand on Hank’s arm, his pale skin contrasting with the blue fur.

Once they were inside, Alex made him sit on the bed and then sat beside him.

The silence stretched and Hank became more and more confused. Why was Alex still here? Why did Alex even care so much? Why had Alex cried at the beach?

“You really fucking scared me, y’know,” Alex said, not looking up from the floor but answering more of Hank’s questions in one simply sentence than he knew.

“Alex...”

“I thought you were gonna die, right there, in my arms. I didn’t know how the fuck I was gonna get you to a hospital, what with you being all blue and furry and all, didn’t know how I was gonna get us home. I just really didn’t want you to die. I didn’t want to let you down.”

“Alex...”

Alex turned to face him.

“We lost Erik and Raven. We almost lost you and Charles. I almost lost you. Without ever saying...without ever telling you...”

“Telling me what?” Hank asked; when it didn’t seem that Alex was going to continue.

“That I’m sorry; for all the names and the teasing; for being a jerk. But most of all, I just wanted to do this.”

Without another word, Alex leant over and pressed their lips together. The contact was brief and sweet, Alex’s lips soft against his own and then all too soon he was gone.

Hank looked into Alex’s eyes and saw no mirth, no sign that this was a game or a trick. Only hope, fear and worry. So he leant forward and captured Alex’s lips again, winding an arm around the other boy’s waist and pulling him close.

The kiss deepened and they both moaned softly.

“Hank, I was...I was so scared,” Alex whispered, stroking his fingers through the fur on Hank’s head.

“I know, me too...me too,” Hank replied, kissing him again.

Alex moved to straddle Hank’s hips and it was then that reality returned, just for a moment, as Alex’s knee brushed against Hank’s side.

“Ow, fuck,” Hank exclaimed, softly.

“Sorry, sorry,” Alex said, his breath ghosting across Hank’s lips.

“It’s ok,” Hank replied kissing him again before pulling back.

Alex got off his lap, helping him ease back into the bed, before perching on the bed next to him. Hank reached up and pulled him down, so that he was wrapped around Hank’s good side.

“How’d we get home?” Hanks asked, running his hand up and down Alex’s arm.

“Moira. I guess someone in the CIA still likes her.”

Hank huffed a laugh and thought of all the other questions he wanted to ask. He wanted to ask why this wasn’t weird. He wanted to ask where Moira was. He wanted to ask how Charles and Sean were. He wanted to ask when Alex realised he wanted this. He wanted to ask why it felt like they had been doing this for years rather than minutes.

But most of all he just wanted to ask Alex to stay with him, forever.

So he did.

“Stay with me?”

“Always.”


End file.
